A Happy Picture

I will paint you a picture,
Of what may never exist,
You and me will be the fixture,
As I paint with my wrist.

It is so bloody and torn,
The skin you can't see,
Just like my heart so worn,
Broken inside of me.

And with each bit painted,
I lose a bit more of myself,
This picture becomes tainted,
With my heart on the shelf.

A picture painted in blood,
Where I am happy with you,
Bring on the flood,
For I have to be happy somewhere too.